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" Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest? "
The Complete Poetical Works of John Keats - 235. oldal
szerző: John Keats - 1900 - 473 oldal
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

The Christian Remembrancer, 6. kötet

1843 - 750 oldal
...above, That leaves a heart high sorrowful and cloy'd, A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. " Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green...with garlands drest? What little town by river or sea-shore, Or mountain-built \vith peaceful citadel, Is emptied of its folk, this pious mom ? And,...

Annals of the Fine Arts, 4. kötet

1820 - 416 oldal
...above, That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed A burning forehead and a parching tongue. IV. Who are these coming to the sacrifice ? To what green Altar, O mysterious Priest! Lead'st thou lhat Heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest ? What little town by...

The Republic of Letters: A Selection, in Poetry and Prose, from ..., 2. kötet

Alexander Whitelaw - 1835 - 460 oldal
...far above, Thst leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd, A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. Who are these coming to the sacrifice ? To what green...the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands dressM ? What little town by river or sea-shore, Or raountain-bnilt with peaceful citadel, Is emptied...

The Book of Gems: Wordsworth to Bayly

Samuel Carter Hall - 1838 - 348 oldal
...far above, That leaves a heart high sorrowful and cloy'd, A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. Who are these coming to the sacrifice ? To what green...with garlands drest ? What little town by river or sea-shore, Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn ? And,...

The Book of Gems: Wordsworth to Bayly

Samuel Carter Hall - 1838 - 336 oldal
...far above, That leaves a heart high sorrowful and cloy'd, A hurning forehead, and a parching tongue. Who are these coming to the sacrifice ? To what green...priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, What little town by river or sea-shore, Or mountain-huilt with peaceful citadel, Is emptied of this...

The Christian Teacher, 1. kötet

1839 - 684 oldal
...above, That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd, A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. 4. Who are these coming to the sacrifice ? To what green...citadel, Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn ? And, little town, thy streets for evermore Wilt silent be ; and not a soul to tell Why thou art desolate,...

The Poetical Works of Howitt, Milman, and Keats: Complete in One Volume

Mary Botham Howitt - 1840 - 554 oldal
...far above, That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd, A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. Who are these coming to the sacrifice ? To what green...the skies. And all her silken flanks with garlands dnstf What iitile town by river or sea-shore, Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, MISCELLANEOCS...

Bentley's Miscellany, 7. kötet

Charles Dickens, William Harrison Ainsworth, Albert Smith - 1840 - 722 oldal
...seem to have run (from a Greenwich pensioner to a Grecian vase), the truth of that sentiment, — " What little town by river or sea shore, Or mountain-built...citadel, Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn ? Ana, little town, thy streets for evermore Will silent be ; and not a soul to tell Why thou art desolate...

The Poetical Works of Howitt, Milman, and Keats: Complete in One Volume

Mary Botham Howitt - 1840 - 552 oldal
...burning forehead, and a parching tongue. Who are these coming to the sacrifice t To what green altar, О mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing...the skies. And all her silken flanks with garlands drestl What little town by river or sea-ehore. Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Ч I -Í .4N...

Selections from the British Poets, 2. kötet

1840 - 368 oldal
...burning forehead and a parching tongue. Who are these coming to the sacrifice ? To what green altar, oh mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing...the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands dress'd ? What little town by river or seashore, Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Is emptied...




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